


Break a Leg

by Eileniessa



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Actress! Yennefer, Attempt at Humor, F/F, Fluff, Teacher! Tissaia, hospital au, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26091889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eileniessa/pseuds/Eileniessa
Summary: One minute, Yennefer is leaving the stage to get ready for her curtain call, the next, she's in a hospital bed with no idea how she got there.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 14
Kudos: 62





	Break a Leg

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mindmypensieve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindmypensieve/gifts).



Yennefer woke up in a hospital bed trapped under pastel blue sheets that had survived enough industrial washing machines to have become practically brittle. White lights that would have made a vampire glow like a fluorescent strip burned her eyes and Yennefer shifted under the covers and turned onto her side. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been unconscious for, but when she saw Tissaia sleeping upright in a straight-backed wooden chair beside her bed she guessed it must have been for quite some time. There was no way that anyone who wasn’t at risk of passing out from sleep deprivation could have dozed off in a chair that looked like it should have come with leather straps on the armrests and bloodstains in the headrest. That being said, Yennefer didn’t want to leave her fiancé sleeping like a contortionist and decided to wake up her before she inadvertently damaged her neck and spine. She leaned out of bed to poke Tissaia’s shoulder and winced when her head kicked up an almighty fuss like she’d not felt since New Year’s.

“Shit,” said Yennefer. She dropped back against the pillows and closed her eyes while little devils poked hot needles into her scalp. She put her hands over her eyes and the tips of her fingers brushed against a piece of fabric wrapped around her forehead. A bandage, she thought.

“Yennefer?” Tissaia murmured. She was sitting upright in the chair, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and stretching with an audible crack that made Yennefer feel sick. Bad memories. “Is something wrong?”

“My head is fucking killing me,” said Yennefer.

“I’m not surprised,” said Tissaia.

Yennefer tried to probe her for details but Tissaia ignored her and told her to settle down for a moment. ‘Patience,’ she said, knowing full well it was a virtue Yennefer didn’t possess. She fetched a meal deal from her bag and Yennefer ate quietly while Tissaia adjusted her pillows and smoothed out her bedsheets.

You’re at Aretuza hospital,” she said. “You got hit on the head and lost consciousness. You’ve been sleeping for,” she looked at her watch, clockwork, not smart, “three hours.”

“What happened?” Yennefer asked through a mouthful of Tuna salad.

Tissaia scowled at her but didn’t comment. Being sick had it’s perks. “What’s the last thing you remember?” she asked.

“We’d just finished the final act,” said Yennefer. “I went to exit the stage and get ready for my curtain call. Then I woke up here.”

“Do you remember anything between then and now?” Tissaia asked.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

Not anymore, Yennefer thought. She closed her eyes and tried to remember. “I think… I remember bright lights,” she said, “the inside of an ambulance, maybe, and lots of faces looking at me. I remember being carried down the corridor and holding someone’s hand. Was that you?”

“Yes,” said Tissaia. “Jaskier pulled me out of the audience the moment the curtains came down.”

Yennefer had been doing theatre work for the past four years and tonight had been her big debut. She was playing the part of a head-strong sorceress in the musical adaption of the famous book series called _The Witcher_. It was her first leading role and Tissaia had skipped out on a work trip to Oxenfurt for the weekend to be there. Shame she’d gone and fucked it all up.

“How did I hit my head?” Yennefer asked.

Tissaia looked away and picked at the ruffles in her red dress, the one she’d worn to the theatre last night.

“Tell me,” said Yennefer.

Tissaia sighed. “Alright,” she said, “but try to stay calm. I don’t want you injuring yourself more than you already have.”

Not a good sign, Yennefer thought. “I promise to try,” she said.

“I suppose that’s all I can expect from you,” Tissaia said. “As I understand it, when you left the stage after the closing line you hit your head on a prop that the crew were carrying.”

“What prop was it?” Yennefer asked.

“I believe it was a bench,” said Tissaia.

“Fuck,” said Yennefer. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck this shit, Fuck.”

“What is it?” Tissaia asked, looking concerned.

“I think Fringilla is trying to kill me,” said Yennefer. “She almost had me with that bench in the dress rehearsals.”

“I’m sure it was just an accident,” said Tissaia.

“You would think that,” said Yennefer.

Fringilla, a member of the crew that Yennefer had been working alongside for two years, had had it on for her ever since the after-party for the first production they’d worked on together. Tissaia thought she was being paranoid, but Yennefer was sure that Fringilla had a crush on her fiancé and was trying to get her out of the picture. In their final dress rehearsal for _The Witcher,_ Fringilla had tripped over her shoelaces, or so she claimed, and almost dropped the bench she’d been carrying with another crew member on Yennefer’s head. Yennefer had jumped back out of the way, tripped over some cables and landed flat on her arse. She could still remember the director screaming at her from the off-stage- Wait.

“Did the audience see what happened?” Yennefer asked. Her director had been sitting in the audience with a few members from the costume department and some of the ushers when Fringilla had tried to knock her head off for the first time. If he’d seen what had happened…

“I didn’t,” said Tissaia, and she’d been sitting in a front-row seat, right where Yennefer could see her. Playing a main role had its perks. “But-“

“Oh God,” said Yennefer.

“I did hear it.”

Yennefer cursed. No wonder her head hurt like a bitch on fire.

“Hey,” said Tissaia. She reached across the sheets and held Yennefer’s hand. “It could have been worse.”

“How?” Yennefer asked. Almost getting herself killed on the opening night of the west end’s latest protégée felt pretty fucking bad to her. Pretty fucking bad indeed.

The twitch of Tissaia’s eyebrows betrayed her otherwise neutral expression. “You could have broken a leg.”

Yennefer pulled a face and clutched her head. “Please, spare me your wit,” she said. “Can’t you see I’m already suffering?”

“I thought you liked my humour.”

“I’m a good actor.”

“Unfortunately,” said Tissaia, “it would seem the critics agree.” She put her bag on the edge of the bed and passed Yennefer her unlocked tablet.

There were several tabs open in the browser for various news sites and websites that reviewed theatre and musical productions. Yennefer selected one of the articles to read, then another. _The Witcher_ , rated four stars by our critics, started off each glowing review. Their opening night had been a huge success and, to Yennefer’s great relief, none of the critics had noticed her absence for the curtain call, though one had mentioned that it was an odd call for the lead actress to have her face hidden by a mask during the applause. With Yennefer down and out after her exit stage left, one of the crew had taken Yennefer’s place for the curtain call, Tissaia couldn’t remember her name. Notes on the mask aside, the critics had been impressed by Yennefer’s performance. Very impressed.

“I’m going to have this framed,” Yennefer said, highlighting a particularly flattering line in one of the articles. “We can hang it in the office next to your certificates.”

“If I thought you were insufferable to live with before,” said Tissaia.

“What did you think of the performance?” Yennefer asked.

“It was wonderful,” said Tissaia. “You were wonderful.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I know it wasn’t quite the ending you were hoping for.”

“I should have known you’d find a way to get yourself in trouble. You always do.”

Their first meeting had ended in a trip to Accident and Emergency after Yennefer had seen Tissaia being hassled by a homophobic parent outside the school where she worked as an English Literature teacher. Yennefer had intervened and, after exchanging a few choice insults, had ended up with cracked ribs and a black eye. Tissaia had stayed by her at the hospital and, after some persuasion, had rewarded Yennefer with a date to the theatre. Two years later, Yennefer had proposed.

“At least I have you to look after me,” said Yennefer.

“I don’t remember agreeing to anything,” said Tissaia.

“Not yet,” said Yennefer, “but you will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt for mindmypensieve on Tumblr (for the setting + trope + sentence game): Yennaia. Hospital AU. Amnesia. “fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. fuck.”
> 
> Sorry I couldn't include a fear of needles. Hope you liked this nonetheless. 
> 
> Just a quick note to say I'm taking down my bad-things-happen-bingo fic 'Bloody Entertainment- and re-uploading the prompts as individual stories.


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